Dementor on the Hogwarts Express
by Natascope
Summary: A telling of the dementor patrol on the Hogwarts Express from the dementor's point of view.


I do not own Harry Potter.

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A/N: This is for Season IV of the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition, Round 04.

Team & Position: Caerphilly Catapults, Chaser 1.

Base Prompt: Write from the point of view of your selected creature. Creature: Dementor.

Optional Prompt: #01 - (word) soul.

Optional Prompt: #06 - (word) Stygian.

Optional Prompt: #08 - (dialogue) "Why am I crying? I'm so sick of crying."

A big thank you to Shirekat for suffering through three different versions of this story, including the original failure that was an attempt at humor.

Also, thanks to parallax0hr for acting as a beta, too.

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The dementor stood in the darkening light alongside a train track, the wind and the rain from the storm swirling around it and its brethren. The slight chill in the air provided a pleasant bite, reminding it of its home of Azkaban. While the pain and misery-steeped walls were not present, there were delightful smells and tastes which made the trip worthwhile. On this night, with help from a contingent of broom-riding humans, the dementors would be searching through the Hogwarts Express looking for Sirius Black.

Sirius Black had a soul that had spent years marinating in the cells of Azkaban. A soul that they now had free rein to consume and send along to its Stygian crossing. Whoever found him first would get a veritable feast of despair.

While Black was the main course of the evening, every dementor would also get a chance to sample from the current crop of souls sitting on the train. The raw feelings contained within young souls was a delicacy that not many had had a chance to experience. Only older souls were sent to their wayward island by the humans that had taken control of their home. The dementor's mouth began to moisten at the thought of the upcoming feast.

At that moment, one of the humans above the horde yelled out, "The train has appeared on the horizon and should be here in a couple minutes! Stephen, you're signaling the train to stop when it gets close. Dementors, you'll be entering the train to look for Sirius Black. You're only authorized to kiss Black. Do not approach or attack any students!"

By this point, the sounds of the train's approach were audible over the wind. The scraping of wheels along the metal track, along with the huffs and puffs of the steam engine, were overridden with the screech of brakes, letting everyone know that the train was close and nearly ready to board. As the sound of the brakes intensified, the dementor began to feel the wondrous warmth of the young humans' feelings. So many young ones, packed so closely together!

The bounty of raw emotion cause a collective shudder to run through the waiting horde.

Finally, the screaming of the brakes ceased. The same human yelled out, "All right, everyone! Keep an eye out for anyone exiting the train. Anyone exits, you stun first and ask questions later! Dementors, get onboard and find us Sirius Black!"

The dementors spread out, each taking a single car to search through the compartments. The humans had originally wanted fewer dementors present, each taking multiple cars, but the dementors pushed back, unable to resist a taste of the juicy morsels just waiting to be harvested.

Another shudder of pleasure ran through the dementor that stepped aboard the last car of the train. From all around, it could feel the unfiltered emotions of the young souls aboard. Such an abundance of carefree and happy feelings. Oh, how it wished that it could take one or two of these souls, to smother them in the misery of Azkaban's stone walls, draining the very essence of these amazing emotions until all that remained was the succulent soul to send along its way.

The dementor slowly progressed down the corridor, standing outside each door for a moment to get a feel for how many souls were in the room. Reaching out, it carefully slid open each door and scented the occupants to verify that Sirius Black was not present amongst them.

Until the middle of the car, most of the individual compartments contained little of specific note. Some feelings of joy, jealousy, anger, fear—nothing overly sustaining, but fresh and raw, waiting to mature into something deeper.

The compartment in the middle of the car, though, held a soul that was already steeped in sadness. If the dementor had to guess, this human had recently lost someone important to them, and they had been there when that human left on their journey to Hades. The dementor paused briefly to take a deep breath and revel in the misery of the youngling.

It would have lingered, but it had more compartments to search. Perhaps it would stop by on my way out for an extra whiff.

As the dementor neared the end of the car, it started to sense something odd about the last the compartment. There was an extra large concentration of souls waiting within that room. It patiently examined the other remaining rooms, secure in the knowledge that it was saving the best for last.

Finally standing outside the last compartment, the dementor took a breath and identified seven souls in the room. This was the most that it had come across so far, most only containing three or four souls. From inside the compartment there was a faint cracking noise and a voice saying, "Stay where you are."

Like the previous rooms, the dementor slid open the door to verify if Sirius Black was in the compartment or not.

With the door opened, the dementor knew that it had lucked out in getting the last car. The tragedy was nearly palpable as it rolled off of the occupants. There were so many flavors: a large helping of loneliness, a side of jealousy, just a hint of betrayal. Oh yes, this was indeed a scrumptious feast. The dementor took in a deep breath, shuddering in the deluge of feelings from the occupants of the compartment.

As one of the occupants crashed to the floor, it caught a sense of wrongness. It paused to re-examine the compartment's occupants to determine what had triggered the feeling. Three souls on one side of the compartment, one older than the others and one recovering from some kind of damage, two nondescript souls on the other side, and two souls on the floor.

There had been the sound of only one person collapsing. Two souls were now on the floor. The dementor inspected the two on the floor closer: there appeared to be two overlapping souls. As the human on the floor twitched, the overlapped souls both moved together.

Oh. Oh, yes. This was most certainly a lucky find. It had been over a century since the last time anyone had run across a human with two souls. Those lucky few who had experienced this told of an experience that could not be properly described. On top of that, these two souls had both marinated for years in pain and suffering. This was an opportunity that could not be passed up.

As the dementor attempted to enter the room, the oldest soul among them stepped in front of it. He said, "None of us is hiding Sirius Black under our cloaks. Go."

It paused before him, contemplating its next action. The souls on the floor were just sitting there, waiting to be consumed. However, could it combat the strength of the older soul to secure those on the floor?

Before a decision could be reached, the one blocking the way into the compartment muttered, " _Expecto Patronum._ "

The dementor recognized that spell. Who among the dementors wouldn't recognize it? The one spell that would cut them off from feeding, draining them and forcing them back. The spell could sometimes be overpowered, but this was not the time or the place. Sirius Black was not in the compartment and the two vulnerable souls were now protected by the nigh-impenetrable barrier of the spell.

Turning around, the dementor left the compartment. As the door slid shut, the voice of the damaged soul whispered, "Why am I crying? I'm so sick of crying." The door clicked shut.

As the dementor made its way out of the car, it briefly stopped at the middle compartment to replenish the reserves it lost to the spell.

Back outside in the pleasant cacophony of wind and rain, the horde of dementors congregated. The one in charge of the last train car was the last to arrive, having spent the extra time at the last compartment. None of the brethren had run across Sirius Black, but all were pleasantly satiated by the feast provided on the train.

For the moment, the knowledge of the two-soul would be kept quiet. An opportunity to obtain them and bask in their delicious taste might yet present itself in the coming year.


End file.
